


Perfect

by cleoselene



Category: Legend of the Seeker (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 03:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19985602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleoselene/pseuds/cleoselene
Summary: Denna reflects back on her time with Richard and thinks about all she "taught" him.  Re-posted from my old LJ from a zillion years ago.Takes place some time after "Denna" but before the events of "Resurrection."





	Perfect

If Denna were asked to describe the Seeker, she'd say he was beautiful, in every thing he did, in every moment. He was beautiful when he cried, beautiful when he screamed, beautiful when he growled at her with hatred, beautiful when he begged for mercy, beautiful when his eyes turned soft and warm.  
  
Beautiful when he killed her.  
  
Denna remembered every detail of training Richard Cypher. Every moment, etched forever in her mind. She remembered his taut muscles, skin slick with blood and sweat. She remembered his cries of agony, his whimpers of pain.  
  
She remembered his eyes. The way they'd look at her, plead with her. His eyes when they were begging her for mercy, wide and brown and soft and sad. His eyes when they glistened with sympathy as he realized the agiels hurt her, too. His eyes lost in the bewilderment of unbearable suffering.   
  
His eyes as he drove the Sword of Truth through her gut. His eyes as he smiled at her and his hands cradled her face. His eyes adored her in that moment, begged for approval, shined with pride at how well he'd learned from his mistress.  
  
His eyes haunted her dreams. While she slept, she saw him, staring at her, looking awed or angry or sad or brimming with bliss. During his training, she tried to make him feel everything.   
  
To be sure, Richard's training was unique. Though a Mord'Sith is as well-versed in pleasure as she is pain, slaves to be broken are usually only shown the latter. But Richard was different. He was special. Less than a day into his training, Denna no longer wanted to merely break him. She wanted to have him. His body, his heart, his spirit, his soul, his very essence. She wanted his pain, wanted his pleasure, wanted his screams, wanted his moans, wanted his tears and his blood and his sweat and his sorrow and his joy.  
  
Most of all, she wanted his love. He had so much of it to give, and no one to give it to.  
  
Constance suspected. Constance was right. He was the one who was supposed to fall in love with her. Not the other way around.  
  
But it was impossible to sense the love in Richard Cypher without longing to return it. The Mother Confessor was a fool. Kahlan had all the power in the world to make Richard hers forever and yet he still walked, unconfessed, filled with free will.   
  
Denna's disgust for the Mother Confessor was endless. Kahlan rejected Richard's love, pushed it away, when it could all be hers with a touch. Idiotic, unworthy girl.  
  
But Denna had learned -- in the worst possible way -- that Richard's love was not only irresistible, but also constant. Unwavering. He'd loved Kahlan first, and so he loved Kahlan best, and even long, torturous days with Denna and her agiel couldn't break him of that.   
  
He was, in the end, utterly unbreakable.  
  
And that is why he was perfect.  
  
Denna had broken countless people. Men in particular were usually no challenge whatsoever. There was a reason men were not Mord'Sith -- they simply lacked the ability to endure pain like women can. They're unsuited for that very difficult job. Some men, of course, could learn to handle an agiel -- Lord Rahl, and of course, Richard -- but in general they were the weaker sex: unfocused, unable to survive multiple breakings as Mord'Sith must when they are training. Some of her pets had been more difficult to break than others.   
  
But they all broke eventually. Every last one.  
  
Except Richard.   
  
It was as if his soul refused to break. As if some part of his spirit could never be crushed.   
  
Oh, she could make him obey her when they were alone. She could and did. After a long day of training, of being hit and prodded and hung and even killed and revived again, some nights she'd take him back to her room instead of depositing him in the dungeon for the night. She'd gently clean his wounds, give him sips of water, murmur into his ear how proud she was of him, how awed she was by him, how beautiful he looked when he cried.   
  
And he'd look at her, with his soft eyes, like a puppy craving affection and approval, and she was helpless against that gaze.   
  
The first time it happened, it was wholly unplanned. Denna simply couldn't help herself. His body, beautfiul like every part of him, was there beneath her, battered and quivering and exposed. She kissed every bruise. She removed her gloves and gently kneaded away the aches in his muscles. She remembered every soft sigh, every whimper, every groan. She remembered the way his breath caught when she kissed him.  
  
He was obedient, docile, submissive when she took him. Of course he was. He was trained to be so. But there were moments. The way his hands, his big, strong, rough hands, would sometimes cling to her in a grip too assertive for a pet. Or the snap of his hips into her, a little too sharp, a little too powerful to be an action that was only following an order. The eagerness in every lick and every motion as she watched him worship her, his head between her legs.  
  
He was drawn to her, in some very real way, she knew it. She felt it. She felt it when he screamed under the torment of her agiel. She felt it when he begged for mercy. She felt it when he pleasured her. She felt it when he came with her. She felt it when he cradled her. She felt it when she cradled him.   
  
It wasn't just the training. He'd told her once, as they lay naked in bed together after coupling, his head resting on her belly, her hands stroking his hair. He told her how much he admired her. He said he loved nothing more than a powerful woman.   
  
He didn't feel threatened by a woman with power. He wasn't repelled by the danger of it. He was drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. Women, he said, were meant to be cherished, adored, loved completely. She heard the sincerity in his voice when he'd make these declarations; known the truth of them. Richard Cypher was incapable of deceiving on this point.  
  
At some point during his training, Denna realized: Richard didn't need training to properly respect a woman. In this way, he was already complete.  
  
Unfortunately for Denna, she found him too late. He already loved Kahlan. And so, Kahlan owned his soul forever. Richard was simply incapable of giving his heart away more than once.  
  
Ever since that day, when Richard drove his sword through Denna, she thought about him. Constantly. He was a part of her, and she would never be able to close her eyes again without seeing his face.   
  
There were days when she cursed his constant presence in her mind and her dreams. She'd take it out on whatever poor soul was in her grasp. She'd inflict so much pain that it would leave her nearly as spent as her pets.  
  
Sometimes, though, she'd close her eyes and think of Richard. Alone, in the most quiet part of the night, in her bed, remembering the way he could touch her. Remembering all the things she taught him, all the ways to please her. He was so eager, so quick to learn, so happy to give.   
  
The Seeker's kindness and generosity were, after all, legendary.  
  
She'd let herself get lost in the memories of having him in her bed, of the way he felt, of the sounds he made.   
  
And then, her thoughts would inevitably twist, turn, knowing she wouldn't have him back again, knowing that if she couldn't break him the first time, she'd never be able to do so again. She'd only succeeded in making him stronger. She'd taught him how to endure pain. Because of her, the Seeker was now a far more dangerous and powerful enemy.  
  
He would never be hers again. In fact, it was probably only a matter of time before the Mother Confessor could no longer resist him. In the end, she knew, no woman could resist Richard Cypher when his big, brown eyes looked upon her with love.  
  
When that time came, she'd sometimes wonder: would he do all the things she taught him? Would the Mother Confessor reap the benefits of her careful training? Would he pleasure Kahlan the way he'd learned to pleasure Denna?   
  
The thought repulsed Denna, and excited her at the same time.   
  
Kahlan Amnell might have Richard last, but Denna had him first. He would never be able to touch Kahlan without using the knowledge he learned from Denna.  
  
The Seeker would always be a part of her, yes.  
  
And she would always be a part of him.


End file.
